


Wake Up Call

by belovedhell



Series: Brotherly Love is Very Complicated [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: A little, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dean Being an Asshole, Denial of Feelings, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Sam Winchester, M/M, Major secret, Requited Unrequited Love, Sibling Incest, Slow Burn, Strained Relationships, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 02:14:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7666393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belovedhell/pseuds/belovedhell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set few weeks after Sam gets his memories back. Sam and Dean's relationship begins to crumble as Dean gives Sam the cold shoulder. After an argument, Sam reveals a dark truth that sends Dean into a spiraling mess. Forced to working one last case together, both come into terms that they need each other.</p><p>[Sequel to Can't Choose Our Brother]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wake Up Call

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't wrote in a while but I'm back! Here's the sequel to those who have been looking forward to this. Also I corrected/edited the first story and added more details, so reread it if you wish. Also, you won't understand this fic if you haven't read the prequel yet. Comments and kudos are lovely and appreciated.

Sam was quiet throughout the ride with Dean. It had been two weeks since his memories had returned. Everything was different between them, it was now awkward and uncomfortable. Sam tried talking to Dean, but it was fruitless. His brother would give him the cold shoulder and avoided him.

At first, Sam was hurt, he wondered why Dean would rebuff him? Then it occurred to him... Dean was aware of Sam's love for him. It didn't take two and two to put together.

Sam tried so hard to banish his sick thoughts, yet it never worked. All he could dream about was Dean: his lips, his face, his body, and his voice. How he would beg to be touched by Sam? How he would tell Sam he loved him? Sam felt disgusted with himself. Never once had he thought about Dean that way before, and now... he couldn't stop thinking about him.

They arrived to a motel. Sam was beyond relieved that Dean didn't get him another room, they still share it together with twin beds. However, Dean no longer changed in front of him, he would just take his clothes and get comfortable in the bathroom. Dean also stopped sleeping in just boxers, instead he slept in his thick layers of clothing.

Sam didn't call him out on it. Dean was probably scared that Sam would make a move on him. Sam opened his computer as Dean entered the bathroom, holding a set of clothes. Once the door shut, Sam closed his laptop with a sigh. He couldn't handle it anymore. They were distant and his heart ached whenever Dean would go out.

That was another thing Sam had noticed. Dean stopped hanging out with him. No more beers together, no more pranks on one another, and no more pats on the shoulder. Dean just went to the closes bar and drank himself until he couldn't remember his own name. Sometimes Dean would smell like women's perfume, and Sam would often see smeared lipstick on his neck and back of his jacket's collar.

It broke Sam's heart every time.

Shaking his head, Sam looked at articles, trying to figure out what their next case was about. As he read, he came with the conclusion that it was a shifter. He raised his head as he heard Dean come out, fully dressed, and sat on his own bed.

"What do you got?" he asked. The only communication they ever did was about the cases, nothing more and nothing less.

"I'm thinking shifter. The reports stated that the suspects had no clue about what happened with their spouses, while the victims argued that it was them. Some had strong alibis, meaning that it had to be someone that can take their form. It all points to a shifter."

Dean nodded. "Tomorrow we'll go and look around the neighborhood. Shifters hideouts tend to be in the sewers." Just as Dean stood up and grabbed his leather jacket, Sam knew that their conversation was over.

"I'm going out," Dean said as he left, not bothering to hear Sam's response.

* * *

Sam woke up uncomfortably in the Impala, his back ached as he stretched. He had to sleep in the car after Dean kicked him out of the room when he brought back a girl to the motel. Which was downright fucked up? They had one rule between them: to never bring anyone back to the motel.

Not only that but... didn't Dean have any considerations. Seriously? Sam loved him and he felt his heart break into a million pieces at the sight of Dean making out with a girl. Sam had averted his eyes as he left the room last night.

A knock startled Sam, he opened the car door and was shocked when Dean offered him coffee. That was new. "Thanks," he mumbled as he took the warm cup. This was just a small apology for making Sam sleep in the car. Dean must have felt bad.

Sam shifted his eyes so he wouldn't have to see the hickies forming on his neck. Dean never allowed himself to be marked before, this was probably another hint for Sam to take. Well, message received.

"C'mon, we have a long day today." Dean went back inside the motel once Sam got out of the Impala. Sam wanted to tell Dean off, wanted to call him an asshole, yet he didn't. Deep down he felt guilty for having such sick thoughts, he deserved the treatment he was getting from Dean.

It was only fair. Sam had to suck it up.

* * *

"I'm going to talk to the victim, while you look around the sewers and see if there's anything suspicious," Dean ordered. Not even bothering to ask Sam if he was okay with the request. "Got it?"

Both men were dressed in their suits and holding badges, playing their Feds role. Sam felt like there was no reason to be in a suit, he was going to get dirty in the sewer anyway.

 _Say it_ , Sam mentally said, _Dean you're being a jackass by separating us_ \- "Alright," Sam replied. _You fucking coward..._ he told himself.

They drove through a rich neighborhood, watching kids plying in their yards. It was a peaceful place, not to mention a perfect place for a shifter to be.

As they parked, Dean passed Sam a gun with silver bullets, not once did their fingers brushed. Dean was making a serious effort to avoid physical contact. The only time they did touch each other was when they were out hunting, usually when a monster knocked them down. They would pull one another up whenever they crashed on the ground... and that was it.

Sam never realized that Dean's simple touches were what made him feel safe and secure. Without it, Sam felt empty, desperately wishing for some sort of contact. Sadly, it never came.

"Be back in one hour," was all Dean said before heading towards a house, not giving Sam a chance to respond.

Another case, another pitiful conversation.

"Be careful," Sam whispered.

* * *

Sam grunted as he was hit by a pipe- Damn his tallness! Why was the sewer so small? He had to crouch down every now and then to avoid the pipelines. At least it didn't reek that bad compare to other disgusting sewers.

He had been down there for almost thirty minutes. It was gross and fucking unsanitary. If Sam and Dean were talking like before, Sam would have been bitching about it to him. Hell, Sam would have even forced Dean to go down into the sewer instead of him.

_Drip!_

Water droplets kept falling onto his brown locks, the pipelines were fucking cracked and rusty. Sam stepped on a small puddle of filthy water as he went deeper into the passage. It was hard to see as he kept going; the small lights that were attached to the wall kept flickering on and off. Then Sam felt multiple drips of water from above. More freaking damaged pipes!

Seriously, this was bullshit!

"Dean, you fucking asshole!" Sam shouted in anger, letting out all the frustration that had been building up the past few weeks. His words echoed throughout the passage before slowly fading away.

As he took a step forward he was met with a pipe against his forehead. He hissed as he bent down holding his throbbing head. "Fuck-" Sam gritted his teeth and punched the pipeline in anger, over and over again.

He wasn't angry at the channel, no, he was angry at Dean. For Dean fucking ignoring him, giving Sam the cold shoulder, bringing a girl over last night. It was his fucking fault. That asshole needed to get a punch!

His knuckles started to bleed as he continued to assault the pipe. As he gave one fine punch- to his misery- the pipeline broke and he was met with cold water splashing his face. Sam coughed as he tried to cover the channel with his hand, which was pointless. Instead, Sam moved aside to avoid further damage from his clothing.

Main question being: was Sam damaged physically or emotionally? At this case it was both.

Now he was soaking wet and pissed off again, nothing was going right for Sam. He collapsed against the wall and started sob, he hated the treatment he was getting from Dean. His heart couldn't handle it anymore. Sam wished everything could go back to normal. If he didn't die none of this were to happen. Dean wouldn't have accepted Crowley's help, wouldn't have altered his memories. Sam wouldn't have fallen for his brother, only it was too late.

Sam's tears fell on his lap, he just needed to vent and let everything out. His phone started ringing from inside his pocket- of fucking course it was Dean- who else would it be? Wiping his tears away, Sam answered the phone and said in a low voice, "Yeah?"

"Sam, come back up. I think I got a league on our case," Dean simply said, then hanged up.

Looking at the disconnected call, Sam combed his wet hair back and took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down his hurting heart. Wouldn't want it to bleed? He stood up, not moving for moment before he decided to make a quick phone call to Bobby.

"Hello?" Bobby answered immediately. Sam was beyond grateful to have someone like Bobby, he was an understanding man who wouldn't pry too much. He remembered Bobby's face when he saw Sam two weeks ago, he hadn't seen Sam for a year after all. A year that Sam wasted with not being with his loved ones.

"Bobby, it's Sam. I need a favor..." Sam shut his eyes in defeat so no more tears could come out.

"Whatever you need, boy."

* * *

Dean frowned as he eyed Sam's clothes- which were drenched- but more importantly he eyed his hand. Sam's knuckles were bleeding and swollen, Dean could see bruises forming underneath his broken skin. It didn't take a genius to figure out what happened. Aside from his hand, Sam was perfectly fine, not a scratch on his face.

They were both currently in a motel, Dean had checked in while Sam was in the sewer. Usually they would wait until they were together to get a room- something that had always been done before. Sadly, Dean went by himself.

Sam was about come up with a lie but was caught off guard when Dean grasped his wrist, careful enough not to hurt his injured hand. "What the hell happened to you?" Dean sounded pissed as he narrowed his eyes. Why was he angry? Dean wasn't the one soaking wet and hurt. There was no concern present in his tone, just anger.

Fuck Dean! Sam wasn't going to explain shit to him now. "Nothing that concerns you," Sam snapped as he pulled away from Dean's grip. He took off his jacket and grabbed a towel to dry his hair. "Just tell me about the case-"

"What the fuck is your problem!" Dean growled as he approached his younger brother. Seriously? Was that a rhetorical question? Dean knew damn well what Sam's problem was!

"My problem? Are you fucking serious! I'm not the one acting like a fucking asshole! I'm not the one starting anything! If anything, it's you! All you have been doing is pissing me off- I'm trying here, Dean!" Sam argued, glaring daggers at him. "For once stop being fucking selfish and start being a hunter because obviously I don't have my brother with me."

"You prick!" Dean snarled. "I have been trying! I'm not the one looking, I'm not the one moping, and I'm not the one having sick fantasies!" The room went silent, Sam's expression was morphed into horror. All his anger had left him and now he was overwhelmed with guilt and disgust. Dean finally said it.

Dean realized his mistake when he saw hurt in Sam's eyes. "Sam, I-"

"I'm going to rent another room," Sam announced, emotionless. He marched to his bed and started to gather his things, stuffing them into his duffle bag. His hands were trembling as he gathered his things, quickly as possible, and he could feel his heart crying out pain at every beat.

"Jesus Christ! Sam, stop," Dean attempted to stop him, "Quit fucking being emo! I didn't mean it, okay? I lost my cool- Sam- Son of- Would you stop!" He clutched his elbow and turned him around. "Sam, listen-" Dean failed to see the Sam's fist heading straight to his face. Ouch- That was going to leave a mark.

"Leave me alone!" Sam hissed, then winced at the impact his injured knuckles made. He forgot he was hurt from pummeling the pipeline.

Dean scowled as he rubbed his cheek. "Are you satisfied or do you want to continue? Do it then! Punch me as many times as you want!" Every of his instinct was telling him to punch back, but he restrained himself. "It's my fault you have those thoughts anyway! I should have-"

"left me to die," Sam finished for him. He could feel his eyes getting watery at the thought of Dean actually letting him go. "Me too! You should've left me to die instead of scared of being alone-" Suddenly, Sam was knocked down onto the carpet floor, his lips aching with pain by the sudden fierce punch. He gripped the sheets on his bed to force himself to sit up.

"Don't you dare say that! I was just doing my job: saving my baby brother! That's all I've been doing all my life! You're my brother, Sam," Dean shouted, his voice hoarse and hurt altogether. "I couldn't let you die..."

"Fuck you, Dean! You want to know something? When I was a teenager I had wet dreams about you! I would always watch you from afar," Sam admitted. "But I had to push them deep back into my mind..." he said raspy. "I may have had my memories altered or erased, but my feelings for you didn't, Dean. You can't erase a feeling because it's already there," Sam croaked out, once again tearing up. "When I was Sam Wesson- I fell in love with you again..."

Dean remained speechless at Sam's confession.

"I tried so damn hard to keep it locked up. To be happy for you when you score with a chick... to watch you flirt with every woman we come across with. Do you have any idea how many times I had to lie to myself that I never thought about you that way? Too fucking many times. I'm so tired, Dean. Losing my memories was a wakeup call."

Finally finding his voice, Dean spoke, "What do you mean 'wakeup call'?" was all he could manage to say. He was flabbergasted by everything, suddenly feeling sick with himself. That he had hurt Sam in the past… Sam was always pulling a fake smile for Dean's sake.

Sam rose to his feet and snatched his duffle bag, not even sparing a glance at Dean as he walked towards the door. As his hand was on the door knob- gripping it tightly- he replied, "This is the last case we're working on. I talked to Bobby, he said he would help me out with a job and a place. Don't worry I made up a good excuse."

"What? No! Sam-"

But Sam didn't listen, instead he opened the door and left before Dean could say anything to stop him.

If Dean made an effort to convince Sam to stay... Sam would most likely not leave. He knew his older brother. Dean would rather have Sam beside him than be alone, not caring how uncomfortable he was with Sam's feelings. Dean would put up with it, especially now that he knew that Sam loved him for a long time.

Dean would be guilt by his own conscious into this, probably blame himself all over again.

Sam wouldn't make Dean suffer, and he wasn't that selfish to be with Dean every chance he got. That was why Sam needed out because Dean wouldn't do it. Besides, Sam didn't want to be hurt anymore.

* * *

Dean drank a cup of whiskey to drown his sorrows. He fucked up and felt like everything was his fault. Just like Sam predicted, he started to blame himself for Sam's feelings for him. Maybe Dean was too affectionate to Sam, to close to him when they were young. All they had was each other after all.

All the times they: shared beds together, hugged tightly, carried one another, and- fuck- they had seen each other naked. Everything in their lives had always been accidentally intimate. In a way, Dean blamed John for having them grow up the way they did.

A part of Dean was furious, while the other part was regretful. Sam had to endure all of Dean's womanizing shenanigans for years... when Sam had had deep feelings for him. Shit. Every time Dean would sleep with a chick, he often bragged about it to Sam like nothing...

Dean started to recall a memory...

_"Sam, look how hot that waitress is!" Dean whispered excitingly. "I haven't seen a girl like that in ages: curvy and flirty. Two of my favorite things. Think I have a chance with her?"_

_"Not now, Dean. I'm busy with the case," Sam answered, annoyance in his tone. He went over a couple of files and shuffled around pieces of paper. He hadn't taken a bite of his meal yet, instead he was devoting his time on figuring out the mystery of their case._

_Dean rolled his eyes and kicked Sam from under the table, only to get hit right back in the shin._

_"Bitch," Dean mumbled as he soothed his leg. "Dude, you need to get laid. You can make a move on her if you want? And that says a lot, you know I don't like going with the same girl you're into. It's a guy's code." Dean expected Sam to laugh, but instead he got a frown._

_"Can we just finish this? I don't want to get laid, okay? You can go for her." Sam then smiled, a little forcibly, "besides, I know she's your type, man."_

_Dean grinned. "Thanks, Sammy!" As the waitress came over to their table Dean put on the sexiness smile. "Hey, sweetheart. How about I get the check so I can write my number on the back?"_

_Sam watched the whole scene in front of him with an unreadable expression, then his eyes slanted._

_The waitress blushed and nodded. "Of course."_

_When Dean glanced back at Sam, he could have sworn he sadness in his eyes for a split second. "You okay, bro?" That was weird, he was happy a moment ago and now... Sam was acting strange._

_Sam shook his head, and said, "Yeah, peachy. Hey, I'm going to go back to the motel and figure out this damn file. Don't have too much fun." With that being said, Sam laughed and scooted out of the booth, quickly pacing out of the diner._

_"That was... odd." Dean shrugged and snatched Sam's untouched meal. Poor kid didn't even eat anything, always working hard on the cases. Sam seriously needed to have some fun and get laid._

_The waitress returned back with the check. "Here you go, sir. Oh, and I have to ask. Did I do something to make your friend angry?"_

_Dean looked dumbfounded by the sudden question, then he chowed down the food he had in his mouth. "What? No, he wasn't mad. Why?"_

_"He kept glaring at me. And if looks could kill... I'd be dead. Honestly, I thought he was your boyfriend and he was just getting jealous-"_

_"Eww- Gross! He's my brother!" Dean exclaimed, feeling slightly offended and a little pissed that this girl was accusing Sam of something. Sure, people have had accused them of being together in the past, but only when they were working on cases. They weren't working at the moment. They were hanging out as brothers, not as Feds with fake names._

_What pissed him off more was that she made Sam sound like a bad guy. Dean got defensive whenever his brother was brought into a conversation, especially when it was about bad stuff._

_"I gotta go," Dean grumbled as he paid and didn't even write his number on the check._

That incident was over five years ago when Dean was around twenty six. The waitress wasn't kidding... Sam was jealous that he kept flirting with her. Dean was just too blind to notice it. Why didn't he see it before?

"Sonofbitch," Dean slurred, getting woozy from his third cup of whisky. Someone sat next to him near the bar's counter.

"Hey handsome," a sweet girly voice greeted him.

Dean slightly turned and smirked, "Hey beautiful." A young woman wearing a short, black dress and had the nicest looking breasts, at least Dean thought so. "What brings you to this shitty place?"

"Well, I was hoping someone could show me some fun around here. You know anyone?" she touched his shoulder, stepping closer to him.

Dean would have flirted back and even take her to his room because she was hot. But... he wasn't in the mood. He just fought with Sam, who was probably crying his eyes out. Sam, who always needed him... yet, here was Dean in a bar drinking his misery and blaming himself for everything.

He didn't know what the fuck to do. Dean thought they could fix just like they always do, however, it was proven to be difficult. Even worse when Sam fucking confessed that he had always felt something for Dean at young age.

This fucking sucked...

It hurt ten times more that Sam was going to leave him. _Fucking asshole_ , Dean thought bitterly. Then again, Sam needed to get away, or else Dean would accidentally break him...

"Sorry. I'm not in my right mind tonight." He got off the stool, clumsily, as he continued, "Good luck finding someone else." He left the bar, staggering his way to his motel room, which was around the corner.

 _Can't believe I blew off a hot girl,_ Dean mentally smacked himself, _All because Sam fucking made me think- Fuck! I feel like shit now..._

 _As_ he arrived he halted in front of his door, then stared at the other door beside his room. Dean wanted to apologize to Sam, wanted to say whatever he could to make him stay with him. Dean was being selfish, he shouldn't be, but he didn't care. He wanted his brother to be with him. They had been hunting together for a fucking long time. Dean didn't trust anyone else other than Sam.

Fuck! Sighing, he went inside his room and locked it. Dean was going to have a nasty hangover in the morning. He just hoped Sam would make fun of him for it.

* * *

The next day Dean had to wear black sunglasses to avoid the sun's painful rays. He felt and looked like shit, he expected Sam to be pissed about drinking when they were on a case, but to his surprise Sam didn't mention anything. Dean's chest tightened when Sam ignored him.

Sam was on his laptop while Dean was driving the Impala. They were heading to the neighborhood again to ask other neighbors questions. The shifter was lying low, but _it_ still was somewhere in the neighborhood.

Dean hadn't had a proper conversation with Sam for two whole weeks... now it was killing him. Before, Dean just refused to speak to him unless it was about the case. Dean couldn't even look at Sam in the eye without being reminded that his brother loved him. More than a brother should.

Although now, Dean wanted to talk to him. Sam was going to leave and that didn't sit well for Dean. He had to do something.

"There are a couple of houses I didn't go in yesterday. So, let's divide them and-"

"I already interviewed them," Sam stated as he closed his computer.

Dean peered at Sam with a frown. "What? What do you mean you 'interviewed them'? When?"

"I went earlier while you were _sleeping,_ " his tone implied sarcasm, with a hint of venom. "The faster we finish this, the faster I can go my own way."

The accusation made Dean scowled, "We're supposed to be working on this case together, Sam! You damn well should know that work and personal aren't supposed to mix. You can be pissed as you want about my lifestyle, but quit acting like a bitch."

Sam didn't answer, he just gazed at the window, his fingers fumbling with the seat belt. A gesture that Dean knew too well, Sam was nervous. Every time his damn fingers would play with something, Sam would keep himself busy to keep his mind occupied.

"...What did you find out?" Dean asked, clearing his throat. He already felt shitty and he didn't want to cause a rift with Sam. Guilt still overwhelmed Dean on what he told Sam yesterday.

"None had seen anything out of the ordinary and no one was suspicious. Although, one witness, Mac, was nervous and he seemed... off," Sam claimed. "What shocked me was that he didn't have a family? Why does a young man live alone in a big house? No family, no kids, and no wife? I find that fishy coming from a family neighborhood."

"Or, he's not a commitment person, maybe even just a rich guy on his own." Dean shrugged. From the corner of his eye he saw that Sam deflated, prompting Dean to add, "But we can go talk to him again, maybe break into his house and see what he's hiding. You could be right."

Sam's eyes slightly widened, almost puzzled that Dean agreed with him. "Alright."

As they parked in a driveway, Dean whistled as he saw Mac's house. "Sweet. What I would give to have a house like this?" A two story house with a rad balcony, the lawn had a huge fountain and the grass was just cut perfectly. "Cool, huh?"

Sam closed his side of the door and mumbled a small, "Yeah." Dean was trying hard to communicate this time- and was acting his usual self- so Sam decided to do the same. It was going to be their last conversation talking to one another, might as well make it count. Once their case was over, Sam would be long gone and away from Dean.

Dean knocked on the door, after a few minutes he knocked again. Yet, no one came out. "What the hell? He's not home?" He looked through the glass of the door, focusing his gaze as he squinted. The house was empty by the looks of it. "No one's home. Let's go in through the back."

Sam simply followed Dean as he went through the side of the house, careful to avoid being seen. Thankfully, Mac didn't have dogs. "You gotta be kidding me! A fucking pool with a slide!" Dean eye's widened like a kid, pacing to the edge of the pool. "This son of a bitch is so luck! Sam, you think we have time to-"

"No." Sam shook his head as he took his lock-pick kit out of his pocket. As he opened the door with ease, Sam said, "C'mon, Dean. Quit staring at the pool."

Dean huffed, but nevertheless he went inside.

As they walked side by side, something was off about the house. They couldn't figure out what it was though. Dean stared at the photo frames hanging on the wall, noticing a couple together, holding each other happily. The guy must be Mac and the woman must have been his... wife?

"Thought you said he didn't have anyone?" Dean raised his eyebrow in question. "They look happily married in this picture-" he pointed to the frame in front of him- "and this one."

Sam's lips quirked downwards. "He said he wasn't married- Damn it! He's the shifter! I can't believe I didn't see it- What kind of hunter am I?" He was an emotional wreck and couldn't even keep his mind out of the gutter. How the hell did Sam not see this?

"Whoa, easy tiger, take a deep breath. Anyone could have overlook this?" Dean reminded him as he grabbed his shoulders. Trying to calm his fragile brother from having a breakdown since he was not himself at the moment. Sam was hurting and was so close to giving up on everything. Dean had to shape him.

Sam did what Dean instructed, taking a couple of shaky breaths. "N-Now what?" Sam sighed in defeat.

"Well, he probably ran to his lair in the sewer. We have to find him before he changes his form. At least we know how he looks like so that gives us an advantage. Let's split up, we'll find him faster that way." Dean gave a soft smile and said, "We'll catch this son of a bitch."

All Sam could do was nod.

* * *

Sam didn't find anything in the sewers for the second time. How many passages were there anyway? He kept going through different halls and he was getting annoyed with getting mildly soaked again.

He still was upset that he fucked up. Sam didn't realize that Mac was the shifter. Dean was right, Sam was being a bitch by mixing work and his personal feelings altogether. It caused the shifter to escape.

"Let's see if Dean had better luck." Sam dialed his brother, but to his amusement it went through voicemail. "Should have known he would ignore me," he frowned. Sam decided to go back to the motel so he could think of another plan to find the shifter.

As he exited out of the manhole, he groaned as he stretched his limbs. Sam was down there for hours, doing nothing but crawling, crouching and leaning down. Once he got up, Sam stared at the Impala that was parked on the side of the street.

That wasn't there before? Dean went to the other side of the neighborhood's sewer.

Sam padded towards the vehicle, wondering why Dean was there? "Dean?" Sam called him. The windows of the Impala were open, but no sign of Dean anywhere. Did he go below to look for Sam? "Dean-"

"Hey, Sam," Dean said casually, appearing from behind.

"Jesus Christ!" Sam turned in one swift movement, his heart beating erratically. "Where did you come from?" he didn't hear any footsteps from behind. Fuck! Sam was probably losing it, his hunter's skills were blinded by his emotions.

"From the sewer, I found the shifter's hideout," Dean grinned. Sam's brows furrowed, he hadn't seen Dean in such a good mood in a while. He was probably smug that he found the monster's lair, no doubt.

 _Maybe, he wants to finish this case already,_ Sam's mind told him. _Wants to get rid of me..._

"Really? Well lead the way," he replied dryly.

"Sure thing, Samantha," Dean winked as he entered in the manhole, leaving a devastated Sam behind. Dean just freaking winked at him- at Sam- and called him Samantha. It was as if Dean forgot the memory incident, forgetting that Sam loved him. Dean was acting like himself: his charming, goofy self.

Sam numbly followed him, keeping his emotions at bay. Dean was probably messing with him, most likely wanted to see Sam riled up. He remained quiet and kept walking beside Dean throughout the passage.

Eventually, Sam had to break the silence as he realized Dean was giving him weird glances. Almost as if he was checking Sam out or something, either way, it was making Sam squirm from Dean's sharp gaze.

"Did you spot the shifter while you were there?"

"No. Just saw rotten skins from his previous victims. We're almost there, just around this corner." Dean took a sharp turn and pointed straight, "You see that light at the end of the passage? It's there."

Sam squinted, then he saw the lair. "Finally. Hopefully there are clues to where the shifter is hiding." This time Sam went ahead while Dean was behind him. The atmosphere was weird, but mostly awkward- more than usual- and that was because Dean was smirking the whole way.

"Sammy?"

"Yeah?" Sam hesitated to reply.

"I want to say sorry for being a jackass to you. You're one hell of a hunter and a fucking good brother. Sometimes I forget that we're equals," Dean confessed. Sam suddenly halted, completely caught off guard by Dean's words.

"Good to know," was the only thing Sam said and continued walking forward. Was he drinking on his way here? Couldn't be. Dean didn't sound slur, in fact, he sounded one hundred percent sober.

Sam stepped into the lair and was met with dim light around him. The smell of rotten corpses and decomposition hit Sam, who felt the urge to throw up. "Damn it! Dean, you could have told me it fucking reeks in here." Sam wrinkled his nose in disgust; it would take him a couple of minutes to get used to it.

"It's not so bad, man." Dean strode passed him and waved for Sam to come closer. Sam went up to him as he remained alert, the shifter could be lurking around.

"Okay, let's look around-" Sam was interrupted when he felt Dean's hands cupped his face and his lips were suddenly smashed against Dean's. The action made Sam jolt away and blinked in horror. "What the fuck are you doing, Dean!" Sam hissed, "If this is your idea of a goddamn joke- You crossed the line!"

Dean was unfazed by Sam's anger, instead he sauntered forward with a smirk on his face. "You know? You're very good looking," he mused. "What's the matter, Sammy? I thought you wanted me?"

Sam took a step back as he said, lowly, "I- I do, but you don't want me." Yesterday, Dean snapped at Sam of how sick he was about fantasizing about him. And now, Dean was fucking trying to make a move on him. Was Dean high or just insane?

"I was a douche. I do want you, I was just too fucking blind to see it. C'mon, let me make your dream come true, Sammy." Dean was few inches away from him, and finally wanted him just like Sam did. Sam couldn't refuse his offer, not after suffering so hard these past few weeks. Dean wanted Sam was like a dream come true.

When Dean leaned up to kiss Sam, who happily obliged. He put more pressure within the kiss, wrapping his arm around Dean's neck. He could hear a faint noise across the room, small clinks, almost as if someone was tapping the pipelines. The sound was so familiar because Sam hit the pipelines yesterday.

_Click! Click!_

Sam was going to pull away and ask what the noise was, but Dean stopped him by pulling him back in. The motion was so unlike Dean, although Sam wasn't going to complain. Sam flicked his tongue under Dean's lip, asking for access into his mouth. When Dean allowed it, Sam moaned as he finally tasted Dean...

Huh?

Dean tasted like nothing. As matter of fact, there was no alcohol taste at all in his mouth whatsoever. It didn't make any sense because Sam recalled smelling a hint of whiskey when he spoke to Dean this morning.

Sam glanced at his side- and that was when he saw it. At the corner of the lair, Sam saw a rotten skin corpse and it looked exactly like Mac's. Son of a bitch.

This _thing_ wasn't Dean...

Not hesitating, Sam took his silver knife out with his free hand and swung. "Took you long enough," shifter Dean said as he countered the knife, easily. He pinned Sam against the wall, his forearm resting on his throat.

Sam couldn't believe he didn't figure it out sooner. Dean was different this whole time! His usual reserved demeanor was changed into a friendly-touchy- kind of guy. And this _thing_ used Sam, used his feelings. Played Sam like a pawn. How could Sam be so stupid?

"You bastard!" Sam growled. "Where's Dean! If you hurt him I swear to god-"

"Oh please," shifter Dean rolled his eyes. "You could've had your way with me? But instead, you ask about _him_? That's cold. Leaving a guy dry like that, Sammy."

"Don't call me that! You're not Dean! I don't care if you look like him! You're not my brother, not the one who took care of me and saved me!" Sam barked, using all his strength to push shifter Dean away. "I'm not going to sink so low as to have my way with an _imposter._ I rather be dead."

Shifter Dean made a malicious smile. "That can be arranged, Sammy."

Sam blocked his knee, but didn't have a chance to counter his fist. Swiftly, Shifter Dean grabbed and tossed him across the other side. Sam landed badly on his side, causing him to cough from the impact.

"You know the best part of being a shifter? That we process everything, every thoughts and every emotions. And oh boy, Sam, your brother-" he whistled, "can't stand to look at you. He blames himself for what you'd become. And I thought I had issues. Did you know that deep down he regretted Crowley's offer to save you!"

Each statement was like a blow to Sam, he knew the shifter wasn't lying. They were known to process every memory into a fact. Did Dean really regret saving him? His heart felt like it was stabbed multiple times. He could feel his hands clenching into fists as his eyes were getting moist.

"What's the matter? Are you going to cry? You were always a crybaby."

_Click!_

Sam, then heard the same sound, the tapping sound. It was coming from behind him. Spinning around, Sam could see a movement underneath a sheet, it was wiggling and making the _clink_ noises. It had to be the real Dean.

"Dean!' Sam rushed to his brother's aid, pulling off the sheet of his body. Dean was gagged with a handkerchief wrapped around his mouth, and he was tied up nearby an enormous water tube, where tiny pipelines were connected.

Both brothers locked gaze with one another as Sam pulled down the gag. "Are you oka-" Sam was grasped from behind, barely able to say anything as a hand was his throat.

"Sam!" Dean yelled, "Let him go you son of a bitch! I'm going to rip you into pieces!" Dean thrashed from his hold as he glared at the shifter.

Sam gritted his teeth when the shifter pulled his own knife on him. Sam fought him, moving his arm away as he elbowed _his_ head. Shifter Dean dropped the knife on the floor, barely reaching across Dean.

"Dammit!" Dean cussed, he used his legs to reach for the weapon. Desperately wanted to get out of the ropes that were keeping from beating the shit out of the shifter. He couldn't believe he was knocked out by the damn _thing._ Dean was walking through the sewers when he heard someone walking through a puddle nearby him. When Dean turned around it was too late. The shifter smacked him with a pipe before he could defend himself.

Shifter Dean hit Sam on his abdomen and then sucker punched him. Fuck! Did the shifter get Dean's fighting skills? Or, did _it_ already know how to fight?

Sam spitted out blood, he was panting heavily as he tried to attack Shifter Dean. He couldn't keep up with him though. Sam was suddenly flipped and landed on his back, he could feel his bones popping in pure agony. The shifter placed his foot once again on his throat, slowly putting pressure to prevent Sam from breathing.

"Sammy! No!" Dean cried out, moving his arms between the ropes, he was loosened.

This was it... Sam was going to die. He could feel his lungs cutting the oxygen and his blood rushing to his head. "...Dean," Sam choked out, slowly slipping into unconsciousness.

The shifter smirked before he howled as he was stabbed from behind. Dean dug the knife deeper into the shifter's body and twisted it, make sure it went straight into its heart.

"Get the hell off of him!" Dean growled, and threw him- the shifter- to the side. The bloody knife easily slipped out, but Dean held it firmly to make sure the damn shifter didn't get up. It didn't. Dean saw his own body lying dead on the concrete ground, bleeding from his heart as it made a pool of blood beside him.

"I can't believe I stabbed myself," Dean scoffed, but there was light humor underneath. "Jesus Christ- Sam, here let me help you." Dean grabbed Sam by his elbow and hoisted him up. He frowned when Sam winced. "Shit. Do you have anything broken? Are you bleeding anywhere?" Dean started to inspect his arms, his protective side showing.

Sam chuckled. "Dean, I'm fine. Just sore ribs and a back and a busted lip. Nothing like painkillers and booze can't fix."

It dawned to Sam that Dean probably overheard everything, when they were talking about Sam's love for Dean- Ugh, he most likely heard them kissing. Sam couldn't believe he kissed the shifter. He should have known that it a monster and not his brother. Dean would never say those things the shifter said... Was Sam really that desperate to fooling himself that Dean loved him as well?

Luckily, Dean was too focused on finding wounds on his skin than freaking out. Or, maybe Dean was still unconscious when they were talking? Yeah, not likely.

"Let's get out of here." Dean helped Sam out of the sewers.

* * *

Sam was done with the case, meaning that now he could depart from Dean. He wanted to say goodbye to Dean, but Sam didn't have the courage to face him. Therefore, he decided to just leave him; they were in separated motel rooms anyway. Dean wouldn't notice after a few hours. That would give Sam enough time to be long gone.

His duffle bag was all set and ready to go. Sam was startled when he heard knocking. Who could it be? Couldn't be Dean, right?

Opening the door, Sam's eyes widened as he saw his brother. "Dean, what's up? Do you need something?" Dean had never came to his room, it was Sam who banged on his door.

"Can we talk?" Dean whispered, his eyes glued on the floor.

"Sure, come in." Sam moved aside to let Dean pass. He gulped when Dean's eyes locked to his packed duffle bag, a frown made his way on his lips. "I wasn't going to leave without saying goodbye," Sam lied to him. "I was just..."

"You're a shitty liar," Dean stated sternly, then spun around to glare at Sam. "You're a fucking asshole, you know that!" he burst in anger as he strode towards Sam. "First, you lay all this love shit on me, then you say you're leaving! What the fuck? You're a coward and running away from your problems just like you did with Sanford!"

Sam was about to defend himself, but Dean continued, "You're going to leave me with these fucked up emotions and you're not even going to take responsibility!"

"What?" Sam uttered out, confused.

Dean grasped Sam by his flannel shirt and pulled him close. "Jesus Christ! How the fuck did you get in Stanford? I'm trying to say that I have feelings for you, dumbass!" Dean let go of him as he stepped back, his face turning red by the sudden confession.

That couldn't be possible? "B-But the shifter- It said-" He suddenly felt nauseated as he recalled shifter Dean's cold words. _'Your brother can't stand to look at you. He blames himself for what you become. And I thought I had issues. Deep down he regrets Crowley's offer to save you!'_

"The damn shifter twisted my words around. Yeah, he read my mind, but he fucking read it wrong. I don't blame myself for what you become, as in you having feelings for me. No, I blame myself for bringing you back to the hunting life because you could've been so much more. Not a fucking hunter like me. And I regret Crowley's offer, but not because of what you're thinking, but because I should've been the one to save you! Not him! You weren't supposed to die on my watch..."

Dean took a deep breath, then looked directly at Sam. "Lastly, I can't stand to look at you, not because I think you're sick. But because you're one of the most strongest, bravest guys I know, and... I couldn't help but see that in the last few days, Sam. I fell for you and I didn't know what to do. I was terrified to look at you and I was a bit in denial," he admitted.

Sam's breath hitched. Was he hearing correctly? He stood there dumbfounded, his mouth unexpectedly going dry as no words would come out.

"Are you sure?" Sam questioned. "I don't want you to hate-"

"Whoa, I could never hate you, Sam. You're the one person I wouldn't hate no matter what. If anything you should be angry with me! All the times I talked about chicks, seriously, I'm so sorry. I even broke our rule... and seeing you heartbroken in the car was the worst mistake I have ever done. How can I ever make it up to you?"

Sam frantically shook his head, as if this was all a crazy dream and Dean was just his imagination. And yet, Dean was in front of him, who was shifting his foot awkwardly, waiting for a response.

Finding his voice again, "No more flirting, no more ditching me for women," Sam said firmly. "I-I want my heart to stop aching."

"Done! A little bit hard since I'm a massive flirter- I mean look at me-" Dean pointed at himself with a grin, "I'm adorable- but, uh, I'll try for you!" Dean quickly promised once he saw Sam's bitch face forming. "Uh, I'm not good with this stuff, Sam. Chick flick moments are not my thing," Dean groaned.

"I know. Come here." Sam opened his arms as he called him. Dean's lips made a small curve and hugged Sam like his life depended on him. This time it wasn't a regular brotherly hug, no, it was a start of something bigger.

"Don't get all sappy on me, man," Dean joked when Sam buried his head on his shoulder, and felt shaky hands gripping him tightly from behind.

"Never," Sam mumbled.

They had a long way to go and a rough journey ahead of them, but being a Winchester would make it easier for them. As longest they had each other it was more than enough.


End file.
